March 2011
1 post
1 tag
The Sustainer
Full, impatient, heady,
the fresh dirt to be sown, waiting
for your inhaling breath.
Ceilings weren’t barriers to the
sky, but pattern-making canvas
for the impressionist mind to connect
the dots. Could the bare testimony,
engulfing oceans the greater expanse
with my tiny submarine body beached
on the surface of the furthest bottom
sands, have been...
